“Vane will have an easier job if Charnock dislikes you. He won’t miss another man spoiling his wife with attention.”
“I thought I was supposed to be engaged,” Ryske said.
“You are,” she said. “But, my family have had their minute with Charnock. They won’t be over there again. You’re good.”
Ryske was shaking his head. “I’m not in on this. There’s a code that says we don’t blow each other’s cover, but that’s it… Why should I help this schmuck out? I won’t be getting a cut.”
Licking her lips, she rose on her tiptoes. “Your cut comes later, Crash, because I want to play.”
Pushing away from him, she spun on the spot. “Follow me, gentlemen.”
Harlow was still riding the high of being involved in something naughty. Edgar Charnock was a fool who treated his staff and his family in a horrible way. Whatever Penzance was up to, it wouldn’t hurt for Charnock to be taken down a notch.
The old slimeball had been thrilled to see her approach, and had only paid marginal attention to the two men with her during introductions. Harlow had underestimated her own ability to help. Edgar had done his best to put the moves on her. So, while he had noticed, and disliked, Ryske getting close to Kylie, he’d been on his own mission.
Seeing Ryske flirt with another woman was an odd experience. If someone had asked her, Harlow would’ve said she’d hate it. Yet, to her surprise, there was something powerful about watching her man at work; something alluring about knowing he was acting and that he was only doing it because she’d asked him to.
It might be different if she thought things were going to get physical, but Kylie would be going home with Edgar, so Harlow didn’t have to worry about Ryske’s virtue.
After an hour of playing, she made her excuses and returned to the family table. Ten minutes later, while Harlow was half-listening to her mother and Lena discussing their dislike for women in high-powered jobs, Ryske appeared behind her father.
“I’m sorry,” he said, rounding the table. “I met an old friend.”
“Oh, I love it when that happens,” Jean said. “Serendipitous meetings.”
Ryske took his seat next to her again and leaned in to murmur, “Vane’s got this,” he said, picking up his drink as cover for the lean.
Under the table, she gave his knee a discreet pat.
“Mr. Ryske, does your fiancée have a job?” Lena asked.
Ryske’s mouth was around his glass, so Harlow answered. “Ophelia tried her hand at business when she was younger. But, she never acquired a taste for it.”
That garnered understanding all around the table. “Some women just aren’t built for it,” Jean said. “She sounds like a very astute woman.”
“Very,” Ryske said.
“Probably not your type, Rupert,” Lena said, making the table laugh.
Rupert put an arm around her. “I prefer my women more headstrong.”
“Can’t deny I’m that,” Harlow said.
Something made her attention snag on a man who’d just walked in at the other side of the room. Harlow didn’t know what made her notice him, but, there by the door was another familiar face… though it didn’t appear particularly happy. Turning toward Ryske, she side-nodded in an attempt to draw his attention to his friend.
Ryske noticed her heightened awareness. “You okay?” he mouthed.
“Maze,” she whispered.
Concern crept to his expression, and he turned to seek out what she’d seen.
As soon as he did, he stood up. “Excuse me,” Ryske said and without another word, he started across the room.
Harlow didn’t know how much Ryske was keeping the guys in the loop about where he was. Maze may just be there to track down the errant crew member. Except, she’d assume if the Floyd’s crew discovered Ryske was stalking her, they’d have waited at her parents’. The fact that any of them had come to the country club couldn’t be a good sign.
The way the men interacted increased her worry. Matching their trajectories to meet, there was purpose in the gait of both men. Ryske put a hand on Maze’s arm while the latter explained something in a quick series of words that made Ryske nod and pat his friend’s arm.
“Harlow?” Rupert said at her side, but she couldn’t tear her attention from the serious pair. “Is something wrong?”
“I don’t know,” she murmured, assuming he could see what she was seeing. “I’m worried it might be Ophelia, excuse me.”
That wasn’t the truth at all. Short of Ophelia dying at the hands of someone they knew, Harlow couldn’t imagine the crew rushing in to tell Ryske about her fate. But using her friend and Ryske’s fake fiancée gave her cover to hurry across the room to find out what was going on.
Ryske didn’t see her coming, but Maze did. He stopped talking before she reached Ryske’s side.
“Crash?” she said when it seemed like Maze wasn’t going to keep talking while she was within earshot.
Ryske didn’t fill her in either. “Baby, I’ve gotta go,” he said, sliding a hand onto her back, taking way too long to tear his attention away from Maze. Something was going on. Something serious. “I’m gonna come back for you when—”
“Crash,” she said, “tell me.” There was no way she could let him walk out without an explanation, except he hesitated. “You said you wouldn’t lie to me.”
“I know, baby,” he said, combing his finger through her hair at the side of her neck. “That’s not why I…” Glancing at Maze, he took a second to gather himself. “It’s the kid… he’s in bad shape.”
Searching his face, it took a second for her to catch up. “Felipe?” she whispered.
Ryske nodded. Just when she needed his support the most, his hand dropped to his side and he stepped back.
The reason for his retreat became apparent when Rupert came up beside her. “Everything okay?” he asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.
“Marlowe, something’s come up. I have to leave,” Ryske said.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Is there a problem?”
“Yes, actually, a friend—”
“Of Ophelia’s,” Harlow heard herself interrupt Ryske. The moment she did, she turned to Rupert. “I have to go and make sure she’s okay.”
“You…” Rupert was taken aback. “You’re leaving too?”
“I have to go,” she said, reaching behind herself to start pushing at Ryske. “I’m sorry, I’ll call you.”
Bouncing up, she kissed Rupert’s cheek and then spun around to hurry out with Ryske and Maze who were already on their way to the door. Both men stepped aside to let her exit first; she didn’t miss a step or slow for a second.
Running down the external stairs, fraught with thoughts of Felipe in pain, Harlow only started to feel grounded when Ryske’s fingers threaded between hers.
“I don’t have a ride,” Maze said. “My parents’ guy dropped me here.”
Harlow had no idea that Maze even still saw his parents. That made her wonder why he’d been with them tonight. Though, it had worked out for them that he’d been so close by.
“We’re good,” Ryske said, taking the BMW key from his pocket to hold it up. “Noon’s got our back.”
The three of them understood the urgency and kept up the pace on the walk to the parking lot. All three got into the car in sync. In the driver’s seat, Ryske screeched out of the parking lot, controlling the drift in the back end to take them from the country club and out to the street.
Harlow felt cold.
Overwhelmed by her worry for Felipe, she couldn’t dampen the disgust that churned inside her over what she’d just done. Harlow had lied to Rupert. Straight up lied. In the past, she may have been guilty of omitting information, which was bad enough, but she had never told him blatant lies.
They weren’t technically together. They hadn’t been on a date or slept together since she’d returned. The only real kiss they’d shared was the one she’d planted on him to spite Ryske. Still, it felt w
rong to lie.
Conversation between the men in the front broke through her reverie. “You got an ID?” Ryske asked.
“Dover’s on it,” Maze said. “Whoever did this… they screwed with the wrong crew.”
“I’ll fucking say,” Ryske growled.
The tension was palpable. All of them were frustrated at being so far away.
Shifting to the middle of the backseat, she slid forward to hook her elbows on the shoulders of the two front seats. “What happened?”
“He was jumped,” Maze said. “Noon called. Said he was beat pretty bad. He’s in the hospital.”
At least someone had been smart enough to get him there instead of avoiding 9-1-1. “How bad is it?”
“I don’t know.”
Sliding deep into the backseat, her stomach bottomed out and her mouth parched. “This is my fault. They were pressuring him, and I… I did nothing.”
“Hey, this is not your fault,” Ryske said, trying to find her in the rearview mirror. She could see his head moving, but kept staring out her side window. “Trink, look at me. This is not your fault. At least you were there… we weren’t even fucking there.”
“Which was my fault too,” she said, her gaze dropping to her knees.
If it wasn’t for his need to protect her, Ryske would have been at Floyd’s instead of faking his own demise. He’d left, him and his crew, because they wanted her to have a life separate from theirs.
“We only met the kid ‘cause of you,” Ryske said. “And, he’d have been in the shit months ago if it wasn’t for you. Trinket, look at me, baby… I’ll pull this damn car over now and make you look at me if you don’t gimme those eyes this minute.”
Harlow didn’t want him to read her fear and guilt. Still, she blinked her eyes up to his in the mirror because she knew better than to test him. Any delays would just increase her guilt. They had to get to Felipe as fast as possible.
“Good girl,” he said. “Now give me your hand.”
Dragging herself to the edge of the seat, she let her body sag against the shoulder of the driver’s seat and flopped her arm across him as best she could. Picking it up, Ryske kissed her knuckles, her palm, and her star.
“He’s just a baby, Crash,” she whispered.
“I know, Trink,” he said, laying her arm across his collarbone and holding it there, stroking back and forth. “And, he’s gonna be just fine.”
Frustrated and angry at both Felipe’s situation and her own, Harlow began to feel a familiar burn in her throat that signaled the prospect of either descending into a panic attack or a crying jag. She didn’t want to do either.
Heading them off, she was boosted by the urgent need to keep her shit together. Seeking anything that might anchor her, anything that would give her a distraction, Harlow needed a focal point that wasn’t the abyss of emotion.
Rising in a crouch, she pulled her arm away from Ryske’s control to yank at the knot on his tie. “I hate you in a suit,” she said, pulling and tugging. To achieve her goal, she wrapped her other arm around his headrest to reach him from behind. “I hate it.”
Dragging the tie off, she tossed it away and pulled at the buttons on his shirt until the top few were loose. Sliding her hand inside the fabric, she immediately felt better after flattening her palm on his pec. She relaxed against the corner of his chair, her head against the shoulder.
The roughness of his scar rasped her palm. Closing her eyes, she stroked it, feeling the beat of his pulse and the warmth of him. This man was alive. Ryske. The man she’d feared was lost. The man she’d cried for. The man who’d been torn away from her leaving her bereft and empty, was here.
“Guess you two made up,” Maze said. “Nightingale—”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she murmured, wondering if the specter of grief would ever leave her. “I want to see Felipe. That’s it.”
Another emotional discussion about everything they’d been through wouldn’t help. Beyond that, it was impossible to explain what was going on between her and Ryske when she couldn’t figure it out herself.
Getting to the hospital to see their young friend was all that mattered. Harlow just hoped that rallying around would help him because it was about all they could do.
26
In Harlow’s haste to get to Felipe, she hadn’t really thought about what seeing him would involve.
Ryske parked the car on a quiet street. She got out, while the guys stayed behind to wipe prints and erase the evidence they’d been present. They wouldn’t be returning to the vehicle.
Wandering to the corner alone, drawn by the glow of the hospital lights, Harlow looked down the perpendicular block to a gap between the buildings.
The ambulance bay.
This was the first time she’d seen that entrance since the night she fled the city. Even when Clyde had gone inside to ask about Bale, she hadn’t come this close.
Ryske and Maze strode past her.
“Come on, Trink,” Ryske said and kept on going.
Harlow couldn’t.
He was halfway across the street by the time he glanced back to find she wasn’t moving. Shooting a whistle over his shoulder, Ryske got Maze’s attention as he turned to head back to her.
“What’s going on?” Maze called from the other side of the street.
Transfixed on the building, Harlow was shaking her head. “I can’t.”
“Can’t what?” Ryske asked, stopping three or four paces from her. “Baby, we’ve got to—”
“I can’t.”
Turning her back on the hospital, she squeezed her eyes closed. There was a boy in there who needed her support. A friend who would be there for her if she needed him. Yet, she couldn’t even get close to the building.
Ryske came around to take hold of her upper arms. “Trink?”
This time when she shook her head, she let it fall back. “It’s so stupid, you’re right here.”
His grip loosened. “You’re thinking about that night.”
“After I came back to the city, I went to see Bale. Except, of course, he wasn’t in his apartment,” she said. “I couldn’t bring myself to go into the hospital to ask if he was there. Clyde went for me. I stood around the block, I couldn’t…” Swallowing, she moistened her lips, taking a moment to herself before carrying on. “I can’t go in there, Ryske.” Her gnawing, irrational anxiety inspired illogical fear. “What if I have to walk out without you again?”
“Baby,” he said, scooping both hands into her hair at either side of her head, clutching her tight. “I’m not going anywhere. Every day I’ll be there.”
Her hands drifted to his chest. “But, you won’t be,” she whispered. “I’ll have to go back to him and…” Dread narrowed her throat. “God, we were so stupid. You were right… You were right all along. You were right in the closet. You were right about everything… It’s so much harder now… Why did we sleep together?”
Going back to Rupert was so much more difficult post-sex with Ryske. Speculating about why Ryske had come back was easier when she could peg him as a selfish, conniving bastard with nefarious motives. Forgiving him for lying about his death might take a while. But her attraction to him, her feelings for him, they’d been too strong to ignore.
Harlow had thought that she was infatuated with Ryske before his “death” and had been woman enough to admit her desire for him. After losing him, love was all she could feel. It tortured her.
Hating him for the lie had given her an excuse to shut herself off from the prospect of being hurt again. Dwelling on her anger when she found out the truth was easier.
Last night, she’d been stupid enough to get swept up in having him there. His presence and his words had seduced her into believing their love was real and potent and inescapable.
On this cold, dark street, reality was tangible. Even with his hands on her, it didn’t feel like she’d found him. Harlow felt lost, bereft, like her grief was crashing over her again.
Be
fore they’d arrived her fear for Felipe and guilt about Rupert had pushed her into a vulnerable corner. The dread brought on by this location was just the cherry on her cake.
Except, the truth was, Harlow would have to get used to lying to Rupert. He could never know about what she’d been through. “How can I spend the rest of my life with a man I have to lie to?”
“You can’t,” Ryske said, pulling them closer and crouching to her level. “You can’t spend your life with him. You’re going to spend your life with me.”
Moisture trickled from her lashes down into the grooves of his thumbs. “I made a deal,” she said. “I broke his heart once, I don’t want to do it again… but I’m terrified that he doesn’t know who I am. How can he be with a woman he doesn’t know? It’s just like before. He wants me to be what he thinks I am… but I’m not that woman, Ryske. I was never that woman. I’m even farther from her now than I was then.”
Ryske pulled her into his arms, holding her body and her head tight against him. “We’re gonna work it out, baby,” he said, his fingers catching in her hair as he stroked her. “I’m here. I won’t ever leave you again.”
These warring thoughts couldn’t have come at a worse time. Leaning on Ryske was a tempting idea. But, leaning on him came with strings and, at their core, her feelings for him terrified her. Harlow wanted to see Felipe, to support him. Except going inside could mean reliving her nightmare.
“Felipe needs us,” she whispered.
They were no closer to finding answers. Their relationship would never be what it was and her future was far from her past. But, none of that mattered while that kid was lying in a hospital bed. If she’d been able to put aside her anxiety and her grief to do what was right for Ryske, she’d have to find a way to do it for Felipe. There were no truths out here. Nothing that could be done in this minute for anyone except the kid in there.
“I don’t want you to feel this way,” he murmured, pulling her higher to kiss her head.
Visiting the kid would boost his morale. She also had to let him know that Floyd’s was a safe place. Maybe Felipe wouldn’t have found himself in this predicament if she’d left the neighborhood without telling him to avoid the Floyd’s crew.
Go It Alone (A Go Novel Book 2) Page 21